


Perfection

by satanchangedmypresets



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:29:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satanchangedmypresets/pseuds/satanchangedmypresets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel goes back in time to the night Azazel visited the six-month old Sam and changes the course of fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_A flash of blue fire and light and then the world was still._

_-_

_Dean Winchester is saved._

* * *

Castiel still remembered the first time he had broadcasted those words to the Heavenly Host. He had just pulled Dean Winchester from the Pit and there had been scores of angels waiting to see whether or not he emerged triumphant. His scarred wings had then earned him many compliments. ‘Worthy of a hero,’ they had said. Many had begged to touch them, trace the lines of anguish and pain so intense they marked his wings forever, but he had politely refused.

Because there was another mark they didn’t see yet. The mark on his grace where Dean Winchester had held on so tightly, his soul gripping Castiel with such fever and desperation that when he had placed Dean back inside his body, a piece had torn off. It had been agony, far more than he had ever experienced, but when it was over he could feel that piece of himself pulsing inside of Dean’s soul, cradled lovingly within him. It hadn’t been within his power to take it back.

What _he_ hadn’t known, at first, was that Dean had already given him something in return. A piece of the human’s soul had stayed behind when Castiel was lost in suffering, too gone to notice it had stayed, and it had fused itself to the torn edges of his grace, healing him with its own power.

So Hester had been wrong. He hadn’t been lost when he laid a hand on Dean in Hell. He’d been lost when Dean tore into his grace and replaced a piece of it with his own soul. The human soul spread and corrupted his grace, giving him the ability to stand against his brothers, to choose for himself, to fear, to doubt, to…love.

And it was love that had driven him here today.

November 2, 1983.

He stood on the street corner for the entire day, invisible, waiting for what would happen that night. He watched as John played catch in the front yard with a young Dean while Mary cradled the six-month old Sam in her arms on the porch, smiling as she watched them. So peaceful, so perfect. He wanted to go to them, to introduce himself.

_Hello. My name is Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord. In the future, I am…friends…with Dean and Sam. I have come to save you._

No, it was a product of human desire to be loved and welcomed and it was not a good emotion to have at this time.

So he waited until nightfall and slipped, silent, into Sam’s nursery. He watched as Mary laid the infant down for bed and John and Dean came in to say good night.

“Good night, Sam,” Dean said softly and Castiel felt his heart clench, the piece of Dean’s soul throbbing to be nearer to its true owner.

But he stayed in his corner, masking his grace and binding his wings until the last possible moment. He needed Azazel to come, not to sense him and hang back, waiting. John fell asleep in the chair downstairs. Mary went to bed.

The lights began to flicker.

Azazel appeared in the nursery, completely unaware of the holy presence feet behind him. He stepped over to the crib, slitting his wrist, and a drop of blood began to fall, only seconds before it hit Sam’s lips.

Castiel was faster.

In the nanosecond between the drop leaving Azazel’s wrist and landing in Sam’s mouth, Castiel had crossed the nursery, wrapped an arm around Sam’s tiny form and lifted him from the crib. The drop of demon blood fell harmlessly onto the bedding.

“John?” Mary stepped into the room and her eyes widened at the two men facing off, one holding her son. Castiel flitted to her side as Azazel stared in wonder and horror at the angel. He pressed Sam into her arms and then Azazel started to smoke out but Castiel caught him with a hand over his face, his grace pulsing into the demon, destroying it in a fiery light.

Mary was frozen, clutching Sam to her chest as she watched Azazel crumple to the floor.

“Wha…what was that?” she gasped.

“A demon,” Castiel answered. “ _The_ demon.”

Her eyes widened as she understood. “The demon that I made a deal with.”

Castiel nodded. “It is over now. You are safe.”

Sam was blissfully silent and Castiel smiled at him fondly. Mary looked between them, still incredulous.

“Who are _you?”_

Castiel blinked in surprise then nodded. “I am Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord.”

“An angel…”

“Don’t you always tell Dean that Angels are watching over him?”

“You’re watching over him?”

“In the future,” Castiel said softly. “I do. I like to think I save their lives several times.”

“Why would my sons need saving…unless…”

Castiel offered her a weary smile. “In my timeline, you died this night. John became a hunter and raised Dean and Sam to be the same.”

He watched as tears welled up in her eyes and stepped closer, laying a hand on her shoulder in a human gesture of comfort.

“It will be all right, Mary. I have changed the future. For years I have been trying to figure out the precise moment I needed to change to make the brightest future for you and your sons. This is it. Your future will be happy and peaceful. I have given myself utterly to be certain of it.”

“Why?” she whispered and Castiel let his gaze fall to the infant gazing up at his wings so intently.

“Because…because in my timeline, Sam is my best and closest friend and Dean…I love him. I am _in_ love with him.”

The look in her eyes softened and she reached forward to cup his cheek. He leaned into her touch, involuntarily accepting the comfort she offered. “Castiel…”

“I cannot stay.” He whispered. “Already the Host are mobilizing against me. I have altered the future. I have disobeyed direct orders. I doubt that I will survive this night.”

“We’ll fight them.” She said firmly and Castiel smiled softly.

“I see where Dean gets his resolve from now. We cannot fight them, Mary. You could not stop a single angel on your own. With my help, we might get ten. But I will not slay any more of my brothers and sisters. I knew what I would face coming here tonight. It’s all right. I must go, though. I do not want them to find me here.”

“Wait,” She caught his hand and tugged him down the hallway, glancing once to where John slept in the chair by the TV. She pulled him into Dean’s room where the child was sleeping and paused, looking up at him.

“I know what it’s like to be in love. At least….at least, say good bye.”

Even through her pretty words, Castiel had eyes only for the child and he slipped forward to sit on the edge of the bed, his grace throbbing at his proximity to Dean’s soul. The boy stirred as his fingertips brushed his shoulder and Dean turned, looking up at him with innocent green eyes.

“Are you an angel?” the sleepy boy murmured. “Momma says angels watch over me.”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed weakly. “I am. And she is right. Go back to sleep, Dean.”

Dean shrugged. “Okay, Mr. Angel.”

Castiel felt a pull on his grace as Dean rolled back over and he struggled to stand, his hands shaking as he pulled the blanket up around Dean’s shoulders. Mary watched him with concern and he just managed to make it to her side, brushing his fingertips over Sam’s forehead before he was dragged back to Heaven.

* * *

The first thing he was aware of when he finally came to again was pain. It would be all he knew for centuries.

“Michael! Michael, please, I’m begging you! Listen to me!”

He never responded to his torturers, never responded to their queries. He only ever called for Michael, begging the archangel to descend, to listen to him speak if only for a moment.

The pain stopped suddenly one day and Castiel realized he was alone. Then Michael was there, kneeling next to him, pressing a hand to his grace and healing it, regarding the piece of Dean’s soul with trepidation.

“I understand now. You had no choice, you had to rebel. With that thing attached to you, you could do nothing else.”

“Michael…Michael, please…”

“I’m sorry, brother, I cannot fix you.”

“I don’t want to be fixed.” Castiel pleaded. “It is not for myself that I beg, Michael. It is for them. For Dean, for Sam, let them be. Please. There will be other vessels, other brothers for you and Lucifer. Not Dean and Sam, please, they are too pure. Too perfect. They don’t deserve to be caught up in our war.”

Michael fondly cupped his cheek, brushing his thumb over the skin there.

“This is why you rebelled,” he remarked curiously. “Not for anger or pride or mischief…but out of love. You remind me of our Father.”

Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise and Michael smiled at him.

“It would be rather messy to try and go back now. The Host might catch wind of my plans.”

“Michael?” He hadn’t let himself hope that Michael might understand, might see his side, might agree.

“I must still punish you, Castiel.”

Castiel nodded, letting his head fall back, waiting for the feeling of Michael’s grace smiting his to nothing.

“I hereby strip you of your wings and banish you to the plane called Earth where you will live a mortal life among humans, subject to the torrential chaos that is human emotion and free will.”

Castiel raised his head, the look in his eyes joyous even as he felt his wings melting away. Michael smiled at him, raising a hand to his forehead.

“Goodbye, brother.”

He woke up to the sound of screeching tires, cold and wet on black asphalt. He was naked and the rain felt like bullets on his frigid skin, painful. Disoriented, Castiel tried to roll onto his back and that was worse, the rain choking his ability to breathe. He had to breathe now.

“Hey, are you okay?”

A familiar voice and he didn’t dare to hope but then he was there, right in front of him.

Dean.

He was wearing black dress pants and a gray t-shirt underneath a white Henley. His hair would’ve been neatly spiked if not for the rain drenching him and plastering it to his forehead.

“Hey, man…talk to me. I’m a doctor, I can help.”

…doctor?

“Dean,” Castiel whispered, curling in on himself. So…so very cold. It wasn’t only the rain that was drenching him, it was the loss of his grace. He felt so very empty.

“How…how do you know my name?” Dean questioned, gripping him by the shoulders to hold him upright. “Stay with me, man. What’s your name? Where’s your family?”

Castiel swayed, he had to remember to keep breathing. “Castiel…my name is Castiel.”

Something in Dean’s eyes sparked at the name, recognition, perhaps. “Castiel…that’s not…possible.”

He seemed to fight some kind of internal war for a few seconds before leaning forward, sliding his arms under Castiel’s and linking them together behind his back, hauling him to his feet. Castiel stumbled, falling against his chest but Dean didn’t seem to mind.

“Hang onto me, Cas, let’s get you in the car. Come on.”

Dean did most of the work, getting him to the Dodge Charger and in the passenger seat. He even reached across him to buckle him up before draping a familiar trenchcoat over him like a blanket. Castiel curled up underneath it as Dean blasted the heat.

“Cas…stay with me, man.”

Castiel hadn’t realized his head had fallen against the window until he felt the cool glass against his skin and he jerked up away from it. Dean raised a hand to his forehead and Castiel leaned into his warmth. Dean looked at him, concerned, before pushing the console back and motioning him over.

“Get over here.”

Castiel didn’t need to be told twice, unbuckling himself and scooting over to curl against Dean’s side, pulling the coat on tightly and wrapping it around his new human body.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Dean promised him. “I’m going to take care of you.”

They drove to the same house that Castiel had visited so many years before. Then, it had been to save Dean and Sam. Now, Dean was saving him.

Dean pulled into the driveway and parked, motioning him back to his seat before he got out and ran to the other side, pulling the passenger side door open. Castiel tried to climb to his feet but they gave out beneath him and he fell, once again, into Dean’s arms.

“Easy now,” Dean huffed under his weight before bending, sliding an arm under his knees and lifting him against his chest. He kicked the car door shut before half-jogging up the steps to the front door, knocking with his foot.

“Mom! Can you get the door? I need some help!”

Castiel shivered, clinging to Dean’s shoulders with everything he had. Dean just rubbed small circles into his back, shifting his weight back and forth as he waited for Mary to come to the door.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’ve got you, it’s gonna be okay.”

Then Mary was opening the door and recognition spread across her face when she spotted the angel in her son’s arms. Dean nodded as he caught the look.

“It _is_ him. It’s really Castiel.” He breathed and she nodded, holding the door open for him and he carried Castiel inside.

Castiel’s heart was pounding against his chest. They knew him. They _remembered_ him. Dean was carrying him upstairs and he barely recognized the walls as he passed. They were in the bathroom, suddenly, and Mary was peeling off the soaked trenchcoat while Dean held him up. Mary grabbed a towel and dried him off quickly.

“Castiel,” she said softly, cupping his face in her hands. “What happened?”

“I fell,” he said softly. “Michael let me become human.”

“Human.” She repeated before kissing his forehead. “You’re going to be okay, baby, you hear me?”

She blinked back tears, glancing over his shivering form. “You’re freezing. Dean, sweetie, get him some dry clothes and get him into bed. I’m going to make him something hot to eat.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dean nodded, once again picking Castiel up and cradling him to his chest and they were moving again. They didn’t go far before Dean was setting him lightly on his feet.

“Just…try and stand there. Let me grab you some clothes.”

Castiel focused on not falling, standing weakly in the spot Dean left him when Dean pulled out a pair of grey pajama pants and an old USMC t-shirt. He tossed the pants onto the bed nearby before gripping the shirt in his hands.

“Arms up,”

Castiel obediently raised his arms over his head and Dean slid his arms through the sleeves, pulling the shirt down over his chest and tugging his arms down again. Dean gently pressed him back so he was sitting on the edge of the bed and grabbed the pants, slipping his feet into the legs. Castiel could do little more than let Dean manhandle him into the clothes. Dean finished up by sliding a pair of socks over his icy feet and helped him up so he could jerk back the blankets, letting Castiel slide in beneath them.

Castiel couldn’t help the groan that escaped him, sliding into the warm bed he now recognized as Dean’s own. His scent was everywhere, overpowering. At the same time, the sounds from downstairs where Mary was cooking, the sound of his own heart beat, nerves ticking muscles, the sound of Dean’s elevated breathing, cars passing by…it was all overwhelming. Then the sights, the way the light fluctuated in the room whenever Dean walked past the window, the glare of light when Dean turned the lamp on, the way darkness…true darkness…enveloped him every single time he had to blink to keep his eyes from drying out…

Dean must’ve noticed the panic on his face because he was suddenly surrounded by Dean. He had always known every atom of Dean’s physical form by heart but this was different. Now he was seeing him with human eyes. Instead of knowing him cell by cell, he was forced to learn him by heartbeat and by freckle, by the way his emerald eyes glistened with flecks of gold when he was concerned and the way he smelled of thunder and rain.

Castiel gave a sigh of relief as the constant which was Dean gave all the rest of his world balance, steadying out the insane influx of information until he slumped, exhausted, against Dean’s chest.

“Cas…” Dean breathed, his hand sliding over his back warmly and Castiel smiled.

“You are a doctor.”

“Yeah,” Dean laughed. “Army doctor, really, I was a Marine and when I came back, I just really liked saving people so…I stuck with it.”

Castiel nodded, a content smile stuck on his face. “Tell me about Sam.”

“Wonder boy? He’s in the home stretch of law school. Got a full ride to Harvard.”

“I detect a note of pride.”

“Well, yeah,” Dean laughed. “He’s my baby brother and he’s the smartest one at the whole school. I’m allowed to be proud.”

Castiel nodded, letting his head fall back against Dean’s chest.

“You knew me. You know my name.” He said after a long pause and Dean shifted against him.

“Yeah, Mom used to tell us the story of you saving Sam from the Yellow-Eyed Demon as a bedtime story. We’ve grown up hearing your name and a few years ago, she sat us down and told us it was all true. She told us about monsters and angels and demons and how there are people in the world that hunt them. That our grandparents were hunters and that she used to be but she gave that up to start a family.”

“You didn’t want to go and fight?”

“Of course I did,” Dean scoffed. “I was a soldier fresh from Iraq. There was nothing I wanted more than to find a new battlefield. But Mom…the look in her eyes when I suggested it. And I knew what it was like to feel like you’re the only soldier on the battlefield and like it’s all up to you. If I left to go hunting, the only thing that would change would be that Mom would worry more about me. I save lives doing what I do now. I have patched up a few hunters that come in our back door. I do what I can. It’s enough.”

He seemed to backpedal and Castiel realized he was staring, just simply amazed at how well Dean had turned out. Then Dean smiled at him, reaching up to brush his hair from his forehead. Castiel felt the slight touch sear through him.

“Guess Mom was right about that part of the story too.”

“What part?”

Dean laughed and Castiel suddenly felt like his chest was too tight, the world around him too small where there was only Dean. His voice took on the feel of a storybook narrator and Castiel felt captivated.

“’But the angel was in love with the boy and he would not stop until the boy found peace.’ Sound familiar?”

Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise; Mary hadn’t left out that little detail either. “Dean…”

Dean just smiled. “I’m glad you’re here, Cas.”

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

_“’But the angel was in love with the boy and he would not stop until the boy found peace.’ Sound familiar?”_

_Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise; Mary hadn’t left out that little detail either. “Dean…”_

_Dean just smiled. “I’m glad you’re here, Cas.”_

* * *

A few minutes later, Mary brought up a tray with a bowl of soup and a pot of hot tea. Dean had already forked over a long-sleeved t-shirt and a jacket to warm the fallen angel but Castiel just couldn’t seem to get warm. Mary noticed his shivering and wrapped him in a thick wool blanket that he bundled around himself until he could barely move to feed himself and Dean took over, carefully spooning the thick soup into his mouth until it was all gone.

The combination of food and warmth finally dragged his exhausted body down into its first real sleep and when he woke again, the sun was brightly shining in through Dean’s window. He stretched, feeling the strange new sensation of muscle grinding over bone, sore with lack of use, and his eyes had to adjust to the change in light, and there was a terrible pressure in his lower stomach.

After spending ten minutes figuring out how to use the bathroom, Castiel timidly descended the stairs to hear Sam’s familiar voice booming in the kitchen.

“I can’t believe it’s really him, like _the_ angel, Castiel. In the flesh.”

“Believe it, Sammy. He’s real, flesh and blood.”

“Wow…” he saw Sam sink against the counter as Dean flipped a sandwich in the pan on the stove. There was a plate and matching bowl of red soup on the counter. “I…I just can’t… _our angel…_ ”

Castiel felt warmth bloom in his chest as that. _Our angel. I am the Winchester’s angel._

_…or I was._

“He’s not an angel, anymore, Sammy. Not like it really matters but I don’t…”

“Relax, Dean, I’m not expecting a light show or fireworks…I just want to shake the hand of the an…of the man who saved my life.”

Castiel found himself leaning against the wall for strength, tears threatening at the corners of his new eyes. It was perfect, too perfect.

_…they are too pure. Too perfect._

Dean and Sam…they were his friends. They didn’t care if he had wings or not, as long as he was there, part of the family.

_…without your powers, you’re just a baby in a trench coat._

Castiel sighed softly and pushed himself off the wall, stepping into the kitchen, flinching back when Sam gasped.

“Castiel…”

Castiel felt a wet warmth on his cheek and realized that despite his best efforts, he was crying. Sam smiled comfortingly, sliding forward with a hand outstretched.

“Thank you,”

Castiel looked at his hand with the same confusion as he had when they first met before ducking around it and wrapping his arms tightly around Sam’s middle. Sam just laughed and hugged him back enthusiastically.

“Here,” Dean announced, setting _two_ plates on the table when a moment ago there had been only one. “Dean Winchester afternoon special: grilled cheese and tomato soup. Dig in.”

Sam prodded him towards the table. “Dean makes the best grilled cheese.”

After one bite, Castiel found he had to agree and not just because it was his first grilled cheese.

* * *

“I passed the bar!”

Castiel looked up sharply from the books he was carrying from Dean’s room to the living room, dropping them all as his body tugged itself forward to wrap itself around Sam’s waist. Sam hugged him back, bouncing as Dean came bounding down the stairs.

Even as Castiel congratulated Sam almost robotically, his brow was furrowed in confusion. One minute he’d been sitting at the table with Sam, the next standing in the living room while Sam walked through the front door. Was this human memory?

Then the memories of the last six months came flooding back. The late nights staying up with Sam while he studied or helping him relieve stress with Doctor Who marathons, Dean teaching him how to function as a normal human being, how to cook, clean, and basically take care of himself.

Castiel let Dean usurp his place in Sam’s arms, watching the brothers hug with watery eyes. Everything was okay, it was all…perfectly okay.

“Dude, I am so proud of you.” Dean whispered brokenly into his brother’s shoulder and Sam laughed, blinking back tears. “You did it.”

“No,” Sam shook his head, grabbing Castiel’s arm and pulling him into the circle. “We did it.”

Mary came in from the back room and Sam lunged forward to drown her in one of his full body hugs and she laughed, squeezing him back as only a mother could. Dean laughed, side-stepping to close the space between himself and Castiel, his hand slipping into Castiel’s.

Castiel gasped, glancing down then back up at Dean as he threaded their fingers together. Dean smiled down at him, giving his hand a soft squeeze.

* * *

“There you go.”

Castiel frowned, pushing a little harder.

“Yes, just like that.”

Castiel nodded, sliding slick fingers over the smooth curve. “Like this?”

Mary nodded, reaching over to guide his hand over the pie crust. “Now gently press the crusts together around the edge.”

Castiel followed her instructions carefully, pinching the edges together and then cutting an ‘X’ into the top to vent. She opened the oven door for him and he slid the pie into the center, marking the timer before washing his hands.

“You’re getting better.” She said warmly, brushing his hair from his face.

“Maybe this one won’t explode.” He sighed in frustration and she kissed his cheek.

“I’ll be right upstairs if you need me.”

She slipped out and Castiel pulled a chair over to the oven, determined to watch this pie every second of its gestation.

His resolve died when Dean burst into the front door, hanging his raincoat up on the rack and shaking his head to clear his hair and eyes of the raindrops.

“Dean?” Castiel murmured softly, already sensing something was wrong, but then Dean was crashing into him, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him snug against his chest in desperation.

Castiel wrapped his arms tight around Dean’s shoulders, holding him close as best he could when his toes were barely touching the ground. He squeezed tighter when he heard Dean’s broken sobs coming from where he’d hidden his face in Castiel’s shoulder.

“Dean, it’s okay, I’m here. I love you, it’s okay.” He chanted the words, sliding his fingers through Dean’s hair and cradling him against him.

And suddenly Dean was pulling back, letting him slide to the floor as he raised his hands to cradle Castiel’s face, pressing soft, wet kisses to his lips over and over. Castiel squeaked, it was so far from how he’d imagined their first kiss but if this was what Dean needed right now, he was here. He tried to push his lips back against Dean’s but Dean was never there long enough to incite anything more.

Finally, Dean stopped, pressing their foreheads together and Castiel let his arms fall around the taller man’s waist.

“I lost him. Four years old, and I lost him. I just couldn’t keep his heart from stopping.” Dean breathed and Castiel rubbed soothing circles over his back.

“It’s okay, Dean. It happens. He is in Heaven now and it is beautiful. A single perfect moment of his life, captured forever, just for him.”

“That’s what Heaven is like?”

Castiel smiled. “Heaven is the best of us and what we love the most.”

Dean laughed lightly, reaching up to brush his tears away. “Then I already know what’s waiting for me.”

“Oh?”

Dean smiled and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. Castiel mewled softly, sliding his arms around Dean’s neck, pulling him down and holding him there.

“Yeah, my Heaven’s going to have its very own starring angel.”

* * *

Mary is hosting a quiet get together of some of her friends from nursing school and she quite frankly told the boys to make themselves scarce. To Dean, that translated to seeing how much he could torture Castiel before someone came up and yelled at them.

Castiel groans at the feel of searing lips on his bare flesh, listening to the metallic sound of Dean fumbling with his belt.

“Quiet, Cas,” Dean grunts hoarsely as, once again, voices from the kitchen float upstairs.

Quiet? How could he possibly be quiet with all these sensations flooding his system? How did humans even bear this much pleasure? Castiel turned his head, biting his fist to keep the loudest of his cries bottled up as Dean finally got his belt free and began working his jeans down over his hips. They’d been taking things slow, Dean introducing him bit by bit to the new sexual pleasures his body could afford him.

Now it was hurried and desperate, Dean sliding his hands over Castiel’s thighs, spreading his legs wide so he could lick from the tender skin below Castiel’s balls to the tip of his shaft. Castiel bit down hard on his knuckle but couldn’t stop a plaintive mew. His free hand dipped down to brush through Dean’s hair, whining when Dean’s mouth slid purposefully over the head of his cock, sucking down hard until he was pressed against the back of his throat.

“Dean,” he whimpered around his fist, his hips rolling despite his best efforts to stay still.

Dean wouldn’t…couldn’t…stay still, bobbing furiously over his cock as if trying to drive him over the edge with wanton abandon; Castiel gave up his efforts, turning his face into the pillow to muffle his cries. And just like that, the friction was gone, Dean releasing him and slipping off the bed, leaving his naked lover alone as he stripped himself out of his own clothes.

Castiel pushed himself up, leaning back on the pillows as he watched Dean grab a bottle of lube from the top drawer. Dean’s hand slipped to his own erection, idly stroking as he came back to the bed. He knelt next to Castiel before fluidly straddling his hips and placing a kiss over his parted lips.

“Going to ride you, Cas,” Dean whispered into his mouth. “You want that?”

“Yes,” Castiel murmured, his hands tightening over Dean’s hips. “Yes, yes, yes…”

* * *

“Well, it’s not Heaven but…”

Dean runs a hand through his hair sheepishly and Castiel slides under his arm, looking out over the expanse of green fields running parallel to the country home Dean had just purchased. He glances down at the golden band on his left ring finger before smiling up at his husband.

“It’s better,” Castiel said softly and Dean bent to press their lips together.

The real estate agent came around the corner of the house and Dean gave him a gentle squeeze.

“Let me go sign the paperwork.”

Castiel smiled, watching him go and he leaned against the railing. The sun was setting, rosy and beautiful, and everything was perfect.

Simply perfect.

_Cas…CAS!_

Castiel froze, looking around him. Dean and the real estate agent were only a few feet away and Dean turned, smiling at him before going back to whatever the agent was talking to him about. Castiel turned, walking through the back door and into their new kitchen.

_Castiel! Open your eyes, man!_

“Dean?” he whispered. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

“What do you mean? I’m right here.” Dean said softly, having followed him in. “Everything’s taken care of. We can start moving tomorrow. Good thing too. We’ll need Sam’s help before he moves to California next month.”

_Cas!_

Castiel flinched before stepping forward, quickly falling into Dean’s arms. “Hold me.”

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, concerned, before wrapping Castiel tightly in his arms.

“Tighter,” Castiel begged, not satisfied until Dean’s grip bordered on pain, grounding him.

_….CAS….cas……_

The voice faded and he relaxed, pressing his face to Dean’s neck.

“You okay?” Dean whispered and Castiel nodded, still unwilling to let him go.

“I’m fine, just fine. We should call the movers.”

Dean smiled and Castiel tilted his head up for a kiss.

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

Dean slammed the trunk of the Impala shut, rubbing a hand over his face. Bobby sighed as he got out and they shared a look.

What the _Hell_ had just happened?

The door to Bobby’s kitchen burst open and Sam stumbled out. “Guys! Is Cas with you?”

“No,” Dean answered promptly, trying not to show the sudden concern he felt as his stomach bottomed out.

Sam caught it anyway, looking him over. “What happened? Did you stop Crowley?”

_Did you stop Cas?_

“The whole thing was burned to the ground when we got there.” Bobby explained. “We found Raphael in a pile of angel dust and Crowley twiddling his thumbs in a devil’s trap but…”

“…Cas wasn’t there.” Dean finished. “Did he come here? Did you see him?”

Sam nodded slowly. “Yeah, he came by and the way he looked at me…I thought he was going to hurt me or something but he suddenly backed off. He stared down at his hands and said ‘What am I doing?’ and then he was gone. I’ve been calling him for hours with no response.”

Dean clenched his jaw. After all they’d been through in the past few days and now this? His heart still hurt as he remembered standing in that doorway, looking back at the first true friend he’d had in so very long, if ever. Someone who knew him, inside and out, and didn’t shy away from all the broken shards there and he’d walked away and left them standing alone in a ring of fire.

“You’re still getting his voicemail, right?”

Sam nodded and Dean nodded once, curtly, to himself. He shook himself mentally and started forward.

“Then we can track his phone and figure out where the hell his feathery ass is. And when we find him, I am going to chew his ass out for putting us through this.”

Sam and Bobby shared a look.

“Dean…you were right.” Sam said softly and Dean turned, looking down at him from the porch. Sam offered him a weary smile.

“When it came down to it, he made the right decision. He chose us. He chose you. Just like you said he would.”

Dean fought back the sudden tears, looking away from his brother and surrogate father, out to the rising sun.

“Why do you think we have to find him?” Dean hissed quietly. “He could be hurt. Who knows how much it took out of him to fight off Raphael and Crowley both? We’ve got to find him because we don’t leave our own behind. You hear me?”

“Yeah, Dean,” Sam smiled. “I hear you.”

“Well, let’s get going then, idjits.”

Bobby put a call in to Sheriff Mills and she showed up 20 minutes later with a file full of maps showing everywhere Castiel had gone for the past six months, let alone the past 24 hours.

“You know, I like the parts where his phone disappears from the map completely for weeks at a time. Like he’s not even on Earth anymore.”

“He probably wasn’t,” Dean said shortly, taking the file from her.

She grinned and they spread out the past few days.

“There, that’s where Crowley had the Alphas holed up.” Sam tapped the map and Dean nodded.

“Cas was there an hour before we got there so it must’ve been him who torched the place.”

Sam nodded, swallowing hard as Bobby brought a handful of cold beers to the table.

“Any sign of where he went after that?”

Jody pulled another map from the file and laid it out. “Yeah and it just gets crazier and crazier. Over the course of an hour, your friend went to nine different countries on three different continents before finally settling back here in Indiana. Current location shows him a few miles west of Delphi.”

“Let’s go then.” Dean got to his feet, snatching his coat from the back of the chair.

“Hang on there a minute,” Bobby protested. “You’ve been going nonstop for two days now. You need rest. We all need rest.”

“Cas needs us, Bobby!” Dean shouted and Jody got to her feet.

“I’ll drive. With the lights, we’ll get there in half the time and you boys can rest on the way.”

20 minutes later, Dean sat in the front seat of Jody’s police cruiser, refreshing her laptop where it showed the location of Castiel’s cell phone. He could only hope the angel was still attached. The flashing blue lights hadn’t stopped either Bobby or Sam from passing out in the back seat but he couldn’t even imagine sleeping right then.

“Just close your eyes, kid,” Jody prompted gently and Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. He was exhausted but he couldn’t give in. Not when Castiel needed him.

“Look, you aren’t going to do him any favors by killing yourself. We’ve got a long drive ahead. Just close your eyes. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

Dean sighed, letting his head fall against the window. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t.

* * *

He woke to the sound of someone tapping on his window and he jerked, looking around in panic at the strange interior. Opening the car door, he sighed in relief when he spotted Sam. The younger Winchester pushed a Styrofoam cup of coffee into his hand and Dean inhaled the sweet aroma, letting the caffeine chase away the edges of his exhaustion.

“Where are we?”

“Just west of Lafayette, Indiana,” Sam provided. “Jody can put some miles behind her.”

“Any change?”

“Cas moved about a mile during the night but nothing for the past few hours. Bobby and Jody are interviewing the locals for anything suspicious.”

Dean leaned back against the car, not noticing when he automatically reached up to brush a hand over his shoulder, the shoulder that used to bear the mark of Castiel’s hand.

“We’re going to find him, Dean.”

“It’s not like finding you,” Dean grunted. “I know you, inside and out. And there’s only so fast that you can run. Cas…you heard Jody. He hit up 3 continents in an _hour_. What if he doesn’t want us to find him?”

Sam grinned. “Then we’ll _summon_ his feathery ass back down here.”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh, sighing as the burnt coffee seared its way down his throat.

He looked up when Sam’s phone rang and leaned in, Sam angling himself downward so Dean could hear Bobby as well.

_“There’s definitely something here, boys. There’ve been twelve disappearances in the last six months and all within a five mile radius of where our boy is holed up.”_

“You think something got him, Bobby?” Sam asked quietly and Dean scoffed.

“He’s an angel, what could possibly ‘get’ him?”

_“I don’t know but we’re not going in empty-handed.”_

That was how they ended up trekking through a swamp as dusk settled in, armed to the teeth. Dean led the way with Sam staggered a few feet behind and to the right. Jody was next, holding her mobile GPS unit and Bobby brought up the rear.

They had just come across the entrance to a cave, mostly hidden by tree roots, when Dean noticed something that made his heart stop. He pushed past Sam, snatching it up from the oddly dry floor of the cave and holding it up.

A blue tie.

 _Castiel’s_ blue tie.

“Shit,” Sam whispered at the same time Bobby muttered “Balls.”

“He’s in trouble. He has to be.”

“Dean,” Jody started softly. “This thing is accurate to the meter. We’ll find him.”

Dean nodded slowly, turning back to face the long tunnel of earth. Somewhere in that unknown darkness, Castiel needed him.

“Stay close,” he commanded and they automatically packed in tighter as the cave closed in around them.

At one point, it was too narrow for them to walk side by side but then it opened suddenly into a wide cavern. Several people were strung up, hanging by their hands while blood dripped through tubes to waiting receptacles.

“A djinn,” Sam hissed.

“Fuck,” Dean snapped.

Cas was here somewhere.

“How could a djinn get the jump on Cas?” Bobby murmured as he and Jody started pulling the people down, Sam and Dean keeping a close eye out for the monster itself.

“He was freaking out pretty hard.” Sam offered a theory. “Maybe he wasn’t paying attention.”

“Or maybe he let himself get caught.” Bobby sighed. “After all this, he’d have to be feeling a little self-destructive.”

“It doesn’t matter how he got in here!” Dean snapped. “We’re getting him out.”

Sam sighed, motioning Dean over to him. “There’s a side passage here. Let’s go.”

The two moved on, the passage narrowing until it was hard for even one of them to get by, then it opened into a slight room with only a single occupant.

“Cas!” Sam breathed in relief and Dean surged past him.

“CAS!” he shouted, shaking the angel where he hung by his wrists.

A small needle in his neck was connected to a clear line, steadily feeding blood into the medical bag. Dean snatched it out, pressing his fingers to the wound as Sam cut the rope. Castiel fell and Dean caught him against his chest, wrapping an arm around the angel’s back. Castiel’s head lolled against his shoulder.

“Castiel!” Dean snapped, blood pounding in his ears with a mix of rage and desperation. “Open your eyes, man!”

He watched as a tiny frown appeared over Castiel’s face and he shook him a little.

“Cas!”

“Cas!” Sam tried too, shaking Castiel’s shoulder but the angel just murmured something unintelligible and his face slacked once again.

“Cas…” Dean breathed and then Sam’s eyes went wide.

“Dean!”

Dean spun with Castiel in his arms to see the djinn a few feet behind him and advancing fast.

He raised his shotgun, hoping to buy Sam a few seconds.


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel watched the moonbeams play on the dresser mirror, casting tiny diamonds of light around the room. Dean was nestled against his side, an arm slung over his chest, snoring intermittently. He could turn, hide himself in his husband’s arms, but he was afraid that if he closed his eyes, the room would change. That if he blinked, he would lose this, this peace, this perfection.

This imperfect perfection.

He slipped from bed, rubbing a hand over his face, and went to the kitchen to start some coffee. He hadn’t slept in three days. He spent his nights walking around the house, touching the pictures on the wall, memories he and Dean had shared together. He could recall the memories if he tried but more often than not, it was like looking at a storybook of someone else’s life. He could sit next to Dean and stare at him for hours, look at him across the table when Sam and Jess joined them at Mary’s for dinner, and know that somewhere, deep down, something was wrong.

Because he and Dean didn’t fight, hadn’t once in the six years since he’d fallen from grace. They had their trivial disagreements but Dean always caved before it could escalate. He had a fondness for classic rock but would turn it down the moment Castiel seemed frustrated by it. He drove a _Yaris_ for crying out loud.

Castiel sank wearily onto the couch with his coffee. His cat, Lizabel, jumped into his lap, draping herself across his thighs and purring. As he idly stroked her pale fur, he thought back. If he tried, he could remember the past six years vaguely. But if he really thought about it, there were huge, gaping holes where months passed and he couldn’t remember a single thing happening.

* * *

Dean carried Castiel’s limp body into Bobby’s house. Bobby and Sam followed and he barely heard Jody as she called to ask if she should call an ambulance. Bobby turned, telling her there was no need, they’d handle it, and then Dean couldn’t hear them through the walls.

Sam was just behind him as he laid Castiel down on the bed.

“We killed it. We killed the fucker. He should be awake by now. He should’ve been awake hours ago.”

Dean fretted as Sam helped him get Castiel out of the wet and stained clothes. The djinn had taken off his trench coat and suit jacket to get to his veins and they’d been lost somewhere in the caves. The rest of his clothes were covered in dirt and blood. They stripped him to bare flesh and Sam carried the filthy clothes to the kitchen to be thrown away as Dean wrapped the broken angel in a dry blanket.

“Cas,” he breathed, brushing the angel’s hair from his face. “Cas, can you hear me? It’s a dream, an illusion. I know you want it, I’ve been there, but it’s not real. You have to pull yourself out of it, I know you can do it. You can do anything.”

“Dean…”

Dean sighed softly. “Yes, Bobby?”

The elder hunter crossed the room and placed a hand on his shoulder. “He’s gonna be okay, boy. We’ll pull him through.”

“I know, Bobby.”

Losing Cas wasn’t an option. It had never been an option.

Days passed with no change in Castiel’s state. As far as they could tell, his grace was still functioning, still keeping his vessel functional, but aside from the slight tremor or wordless murmur, there was no sign the angel was still inside. Dean took his meals in the bedroom, only leaving Castiel’s side to go to the bathroom and only then if Sam or Bobby was watching over him.

“I don’t want him to wake up alone.” He had said the first time and they’d both nodded in agreement.

But the prognosis was looking worse by the hour. Dean sighed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees over Castiel’s bedside. The angel was dressed in an old t-shirt of his and a pair of Sam’s sweatpants. He looked far too small and vulnerable in the too big clothing and Dean just wanted him to wake up so he could say how sorry he was, how he couldn’t lose him again, how sitting here was breaking him inside, that he felt just like he had seeing the knife go into Sammy’s back, seeing Bobby’s eyes go black…

“Cas, I need you, okay?” he whispered through drunken sobs one night. “I need you back here with me ‘cause…of all the people in my life, you stayed. You had no reason to stay and every reason to leave, more than most, but you stayed and you have to come back ‘cause life ain’t worth livin’ without you.”

Castiel had just murmured something unintelligible through chapped lips and fallen still once again.

* * *

Cas lay on the couch, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Dean was at work, Lizabel was at the vet, he was totally alone. 

Except for the voice, the insanely familiar voice that was driving him slowly mad as it grew louder and louder as his faith in the world around him shrank.

“Dean,” he whispered, covering his face with his hands as hot tears ran down his cheeks. “What do you want from me?”

* * *

Dean’s head jerked up from where he’d fallen asleep, head resting on the edge of the bed. Castiel was murmuring something over and over again, almost audible, and Dean stretched over the angel’s prone body, holding his head nearer enough so he could almost feel the angel’s lips on his ear. The whisper was almost too soft to distinguish but he could’ve sworn he heard a single question.

“What do you want from me?” the angel whispered.

Dean fell back into his seat, gripping the fabric of his jeans until his knuckles turned white. Hot tears ran down his face.

* * *

The next day Dean found Bobby and Sam clearing the living room of furniture.

“I found something we might can use to snap him out of it,” Bobby explained. “It’s usually used for someone hit with a dream curse so it’ll probably work for this too.”

“What does it do?” Dean asked cautiously.

“It’ll put one of us inside Castiel’s dream. Let us connect to him one on one and maybe convince him the illusion isn’t real, help him snap out of it and wake up.” Sam continued as Bobby shoved the desk into the kitchen. “We think you should be the one to go, too.”

Dean swallowed before nodding. “Okay.”

* * *

Dean softly stroked his hair as they lay naked in bed together, Castiel strewn haphazardly across his chest. He drew in the soft musk that was both his hunter and not because Dean had never smelled this clean. Dean was sweat and dirt and fire and gasoline and oil and leather…not chemical and soap and hospital.

“What’s bothering you, baby?”

Cas shook his head. “No talking. Just hold me.”

Dean sighed. “You know I’m not one to be the girl but you have to talk to me sometime.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Cas…”

Castiel silenced him with his lips.

* * *

“Why do I have to be naked?” Dean complained, laying down on the cold floor where Sam and Bobby had spray-painted the runes in white.

Castiel lay prone on the floor, naked as well, and when Dean laid down they were head to head.

“Technically, you’re supposed to have had sex with the person so just hope this tricks the magic.” Sam sighed.

Dean rolled his eyes, letting Sam paint the runes onto his chest.

“It better work.” He growled.

Sam stepped back and to his side of the circle, Bobby standing opposite. They began chanting in unison and Dean felt the magic take hold of his body, heat drawing up from his toes and into his head until it was throbbing. He closed his eyes.

When he opened them, he was fully dressed, standing in front of a country home surrounded by wild flowers and a wide yard. He saw himself, tossing a football with Sam and Jess. His mom was leaning on the railing of the porch, smiling as she watched her boys roughhouse. A half dozen cats milled around and Dean found himself casting about, looking for the one person he was here for.

He started forward, climbing the steps of the porch but no one seemed to pay him any mind. When he reached for the doorknob, his hand passed straight through.

“Well, this is going to suck.” He muttered before walking through the wood, feeling himself dematerialize and reassemble on the far side of the door.

Luckily he didn’t have to go far as he spotted Castiel sitting at the table in the kitchen, nursing half a glass of scotch. The angel looked positively miserable.

“Cas…” he whispered and the angel jerked as if struck. Dean crossed the room and knelt next to him. “Cas…can you hear me? Show me you can hear me.”

“Go away,” the angel whimpered. “I don’t want to listen to you anymore.”

_He was listening! He did hear me!_

“If you heard what I’ve been saying, then why are you still here?” Dean whispered and watched as Castiel drained what was left in the glass. He then stood and went to the counter, pulling a bottle from behind the fridge and pouring himself a refill.

“Because.”

“Because why?” Dean snapped, impatient.

“Because here…” Castiel sighed, leaning on the counter. “Here, you are happy and safe. Both of you are. Free from the cares of the world, free from being caught in the crossfire of a war that was never yours to fight, free from me and all the wrongs I have done you…”

“Shit, Cas!” Dean exclaimed, walking straight up behind him and Cas turned as if he could sense him. He was less than an inch from the angel’s face, screaming at him. “We all fuck up sometimes! I’ve treated you like shit, used you like a hammer like a fucking hypocrite and you overlooked that and still fought by my side! What makes you think I can’t get over this little speed bump and…”

“Because I love you!” Castiel shouted and Dean took a step back, stunned. “And you don’t love me.”

“Cas…” Dean breathed, his heart pounding in his throat. He suddenly felt a pull somewhere behind his navel and his eyes went wide.

“No…NO!”

He woke up in Sam’s arms, a belt shoved between his teeth. He spat the leather out, pushing weakly at Sam’s chest.

“Why’d you bring me back!?” he shouted hoarsely.

“Dean, you were having a seizure!” Sam shouted back, his eyes wide with concern, but Dean just pushed away, crawling over to Castiel.

He didn’t care that he was naked or that he was now straddling Castiel’s equally naked waist in front of his brother and surrogate father. He summoned all of his strength and pulled Castiel’s limp form into his arms.

“You listen here, you son of a bitch, I know you can hear me. You are going to wake up and wake up right the fuck now because if you don’t, so help me God, I will go back in there over and over again until it kills me. Because I love you. I fucking love you and I am not going to let you die without the goddamn chance to say it to your face.”

* * *

Castiel stood stunned in the kitchen. He looked at the table where he’d spent so many dinners with Dean, so many long nights on the couch, so many many happy memories…and none of them made him feel more loved than he did at that exact moment.

He climbed the stairs slowly, feeling more himself than he had in years. He went to Dean’s office and pulled open the desk drawer where Dean kept his pistol.

“Cas, what are you doing?”

Castiel stood, walking in front of the desk and facing the man he’d married.

“You are not the man I love.” He said softly before raising the gun to his temple.

* * *

Castiel gasped, his eyes wide and his body arching as he struggled to reorient himself. Grace, hot and white, was burning through him and his wings had manifested themselves, thrashing in his confusion.

“Shit!” he heard Sam’s voice laden with concern and Bobby’s frustrated “Balls!”

“Easy, easy, Cas, I’ve got you. It’s okay, Cas, calm down. Calm…calm…deep breaths…”

He was shaking but Dean’s arms were firm around his chest, holding him steady and he raised his head, finding himself barely two inches from Dean’s face, emerald eyes boring into his. Silence fell in the room as they stared at one another, close enough to share each other’s breath.

“Was that…was that really what you wanted?” Dean said softly. “Your perfect world?”

Castiel stared up at him before slowly shaking his head. “It wasn’t perfect. Not at all.”

He turned slowly, looking first from Sam to Bobby and then back to Dean. “ …this is what I love. The fighting, the mistakes, the alcohol, the pain, and knowing that we still love each other despite all that…this is perfection. This is where I belong.”

“Damn straight.” Dean laughed and Castiel smiled as Dean pressed their foreheads together.

Behind them, Sam cleared his throat.

“Dean, I believe you have something to say to Castiel.”

Dean blushed, actually _blushed_ , and stammered for a moment before Castiel laughed, diving to rescue him.

“It’s okay,” He said softly. “I heard him the first time.”

And slid an arm around Dean’s neck, leaning up to press their lips together.

-

_FIN_


End file.
